


Captive Audience

by TurtleTot



Series: Affections of an Dumbass WoL [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, No beta we post like men, Spoilers, Voyeurism, crystalline cum, misuse of magicked mirrors, tagging who he is because it's set post 5.0
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 16:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19771729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtleTot/pseuds/TurtleTot
Summary: He had only meant to watch her dance for the crowd, honest. Unfortunately his wants had other ideas.





	Captive Audience

**Author's Note:**

> came from a not so weird convo on discord with Chedderbug

A smile graced his lips as he watched through his looking glass at the crowd gathering around Sorcha. She was dressed in far different clothes than her usual garb. For the majority of the time he had known her, before and after his slumber, she had largely favored being as covered as possible. He did not expect her to show so much skin, or to look so confident. Full glad he was to be in the Ocular and not with the crowd. He was aware that even from the ocular he was faintly blushing. Who knows how red he would be if he were there to watch her in the flesh. Instead from safety on high he observed her. It was after all nothing he hadn’t seen before when checking in on her, but against the gold jewelry adorning her body the new scars on her body seemed to stand out even more.  
Said scars were faint as they crisscrossed her abdomen, those must have been on the attack on Rhalgr’s Reach, he read that she had been injured. There was another less healed scar that looked as if she’d been cleaved from her shoulder. That, that must have been a result of his effort to speak to her ‘face to face’. Sorcha mentioned in vagueness that she had gotten injured the last time he tried to contact her before the Sons of Saint Coinach found the beacon. A heaviness began to settle in his heart.  


G’raha snapped out of his depricative revelry to see Sorcha ready to dance as the music started up. She bounced upon her feet. The metal coins on the chains, jingling in time with the music as she began her dance, removing the chakrams from unseen holsters on her hips. His eyes drifted from the chakrams down to her feet, and backup once more to her smiling face. As he continued watching, he stared at her every movement, flitting from her weapons to her body. G’raha began to wonder how did that number even stay on her much less in place. Honestly, it barely even be called an outfit with how little it covered, good for dancing in the least, if Sorcha’s performance was anything to go by.  


All too soon it was over, the little crowd had grown rancorous in their applause. Sorcha heaving from the exertion. Her skin shining from sweat, placing her weapons back on their holsters, she swiftly removed herself from the crowd, waving goodbye. She was running, her confidence run out. Ah, Back to the Pendants. He briefly entertained the idea of going down to meet her, before catching himself. It would most likely set her edge. In any case what would he even say. That he watched her performance through a magicked mirror and would for her to give him a private one? While true, it was far too inappropriate, even when he was a young man, he was never so bold. But, how he yearned to ask her and for her to aquise. G’raha watched as Sorcha entered into her room, as she sat down and slowly started to undo the buckles on her dancing shoes and chakram holsters. He should leave her to her privacy. Should being the operative word her, unfortunately against his better judgement he continues watching. His eyes following as her fingers deftly unclasp the hooks on her jewelry adorning her form, gently setting them aside. He really should stop watching her now, he knew but still did not take his eyes away.  


Sorcha shuffled behind the privacy screen, not that it mattered to her voyeur. She turned on the water, making a grateful sound at the indoor plumbing, and dumped in some fragrant oils the people of Crystarium saw fit to gift her. She began a slow, tired shimmy out of the skirt of the dancer garb, tossing it over the privacy screen she hide behind from any prying eyes. She reached back to unclasp her bandeau, she peeled it off and tossed it with the skirt and slowly sank into the hot water. If he could not tear his eyes away before he certainly couldn’t now, and the feeling in his small clothes grew too much to ignore any further. He turned to allow the mirror to flicker off as the sound of a quiet moan carried into his ears. His face burned, struggling to not turn and watch her in some of her most private moments, further breaking the trust without Sorcha even knowing. The moaning cried out slightly louder this time, and he was relieved for how thick the walls of the tower were. The pressure of his cock against his small clothes was near painful now.  


His will power broke and he turned back to the mirror. He looked back to see her heels hooked up on the edges of the tub. Hand dipping below the clear water to between her legs, the other tugging at her breast. Her head thrown back in near ecstasy. G’raha moved his hand to the pins on his robes, unthinkingly, he undid them. His non-crystallized hand idly palming at his still clothed cock, it did little to relieve the pressure. His hand moved to free himself from the all too stifling confines of his small clothes as he slid to his knees that almost seemed a mockery of reverence. Almost. His thumb rubbed the precum off of the tip as he watched her writhe under her own touch. As her face a lovely flushed a lovely shade of red and her mouth hung open he wondered how it would feel around him, or if he could elicit such a reaction from her himself. His hand swiftly moved along his member until he could feel his climax coming. He stopped abruptly from a particularly loud moan from the mirror. The water was splashing almost furiously has he watched Sorcha chase after her orgasm. His hand began to move again with renewed vigor as he watched wide-eyed drinking in her expression and body as she tensed and relaxed once more. His own moans warbled out as he neared his climax once more.  


It had come and gone all too soon, his seed spent upon his robes and hand, shimmering in part from the light and the crystallization of his body. Regaining his senses he opened his eyes coming down from the high. Only now did the mirror shut off, he knows he should feel some shame over using his dearest friends visage in such a manner. However, the relief from said use overpowered it. Slowly he stood up on shaking legs, pulling his robes back around him, not bothering to refasten it knowing he was just going to bathe. He began to harden again with his mind conjuring the images he just witnessed at the thought of a bath. It was going to be a very long, frustrating evening. He silently prayed there would be no need of him til the morrow. Seeing as he would be, indisposed.


End file.
